


Unwanted Bonding

by DarkMoonMaiden



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Asexual!Athelstan, F/M, Fluff, Gen, SO MUCH FLUFF, ragnar and lagertha are worried parents, totally reluctant Athelstan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMoonMaiden/pseuds/DarkMoonMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a time of desperation, Lagertha and Ragnar pressure Athelstan to marry Gyda before she has to marry another man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwanted Bonding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winejuicebox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winejuicebox/gifts).



> What started as a horrible joke has turned into this. I am sorry. Blame winejuicebox.

Athelstan was uneasy.

Ragnar and Lagertha has been arguing in heated whispers for days now, their eyes trained on the priest as he went through his daily routine.

The couple's gazes were lacking the usual flirty lust that they directed at him. For the first day or two, Athelstan was startled to see that Ragnar's held hostility and something akin to anger, directed towards the priest. Lagertha had said something at the end of the second day that had made the warrior laugh, and the tension eased between Ragnar's shoulders. Amusement took the harsher emotions' places in Ragnar's eyes, while Lagertha watched Athelstan with motherly affection.

Athelstan knew they were planning something. They had been wearing similar expressions when they decided to drop him off in the middle of the woods to see if he could find his way back before the wolves came out. He hadn't been injured, thank God, but he didn't think he could survive another ordeal like that.

Needless to say, when Ragnar and Lagertha had come to a conclusion and made a move to try and talk to Athelstan in private, he had panicked. The priest quickly and quite loudly announced that he needed to go to Kattegat to do some errands, and he wouldn't return until the morning. He had packed an overnight back and left practically running, desperate to get away before they locked him in a room with a bear or threw him off a cliff or something equally as terrible.

Now, Athelstan was sitting on a small bed. One of Ragnar's trusted men lived in the town, and insisted that whenever a Lothbrok had to stay the night in town, they should go to him for a room and a meal. Athelstan was no exception to that promise, and was treated as well as Ragnar or his wife would have been treated.

The morning came much too quickly for Athelstan's liking, and he was forced return to the farm with the few things that he had bought from the marketplace (it hadn't been a lie when he had said that he needed to run errands). He dragged his feet, attempting to make the journey last as long as possible.

When Gyda caught sight of the priest, instead of the usual happy greeting she gave him, her face paled and she scurried off before he could speak.

"Athelstan," Ragnar greeted, sauntering up to him with Lagertha close behind. "I hope you're done running away and want to hear what we have to say now?"

Athelstan flushed, mumbling out a few protests that that wasn't what he had been doing, and his friends dragged him into the house.

They set him down at the table, Lagertha pouring him a beaker of ale. The shieldmaiden's husband sat next to Athelstan, and she sat down on the other side.

"Is-is something the matter?" he stuttered out uncertainly, not sure which Lothbrok he should be watching.

"We have something that we wish to ask of you, little lamb," Lagertha announced, leaning into him.

"A request," Ragnar confirmed, serious. "And before we ask this of you, I want to say that we would not do this if we had no other choice."

Athelstan felt his stomach sink. "What's happening?" he asked urgently, hand tightening around the beaker.

Lagertha sighed. "It has to do with Gyda."

Athelstan took a sharp breath at the mention of the girl he considered family's name. Was she injured? Had one of the village men touched her? He knew that vikings were notorious for taking advantage of unsuspecting girls, and if one of them had dared lay a finger on Gyda--

"She is getting to the age where Ragnar and I need to choose a husband for her," Lagertha said. "We had hoped that we could put it off for a few more years, but we have gotten numerous suitors asking for her hand in marriage and we cannot wait.”

Athelstan’s heart nearly broke. He had known that the time would come eventually that Gyda’s parents would have to marry her off. He didn’t know much about the vikings’ marriage customs, but if they were anything like his people’s, then it wouldn’t be good for her. He knew that English husbands were allowed to basically do whatever they pleased with their wives as soon as the vows were said, and he feared what Gyda’s husband would do to her.

Gyda and Athelstan had grown close throughout the time he’d spent with her family. Gyda had a love for the stories of her people’s gods, and was the first person to genuinely look curious about his religion’s lore, and the myths he had learned on his travels. They would stay up for long nights by the fire, taking turns every other night to speak. Ragnar would occasionally join them, listening in with a content smile on his face before returning to his sleeping wife.

Whenever they were alone, the duo would confess their secrets. Athelstan told her about how he worried that he could never truly find happiness with the vikings, that he would forever be an outsider, and she talked about how she dreamed of becoming a trader and traveling the world.

It was on one of those nights that Gyda quietly told Athelstan that she was terrified of the idea of marrying and eventually having to lay with a man. She feared the initial pain her mother had told her about, and the pleasure that she may or may not feel. She was afraid of the whole thing, and none of the reassurances her mother and the other women had given her helped.

In turn, Athelstan had whispered to her that he wasn’t attracted to anybody, male nor female. He had thought at first it was because he was a priest, and that it was the guilt of betraying his celibacy vows, but the guilt faded and he still didn’t find himself wanting physical relations with them. When the gorgeous Lagertha and her handsome spouse had offered him a place in their bed, he had felt his heart flutter of affection in his heart, but his body didn’t want them. It didn’t want anybody, it seemed.

“Who...who are you going to give her hand to?” he asked after a few seconds.

Lagertha and Ragnar shared a look.

“We want you to marry Gyda,” Ragnar finally said.

Athelstan choked on nothing, jaw dropping in horror. “I beg your pardon--what--no, no, no, I cannot do it,” he refused, shaking his head almost violently. “I truly can’t marry Gyda, I look at her as I would a family member!”

“Which is exactly why we chose you,” Lagertha smirked, placing her hand on his forearm soothingly. “You would never do anything untowards my daughter, like the other pigs in the town.”

“I won’t be able to provide her with anything!” he said shrilly, heart pounding. He lowered his voice, blushing fiercely. “I don’t think I could even give her children, or...consummate--” he cringed at the word “--the marriage.”

“We already suspected that you preferred men over women,” Ragnar chuckled. “All the more reason to choose you.”

“I-I don’t prefer men,” Athelstan confessed. “I am not attracted to anyone. And Gyda is absolutely terrified of marriage, I can’t be the one scare her so--”

“If it isn’t you, then it is more than likely going to be someone she either doesn’t know, or barely knows,” Lagertha interrupted sharply. He easygoing mask was slipping, her eyes revealing how truly upset she was over the situation. “It will be for power and closer bonds with another family, and Gyda will have to stay with another man.”

“Please, Athelstan,” Ragnar said when the priest didn’t speak. “It won’t be that hard on her if it is you. Gyda talks to you the most out of all the people she knows, even more than she does with me or my wife. I am begging you, for her, say you will.”

Of course Athelstan couldn’t turn them down. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, and by God did he want to. He didn’t want to be the one to have to care for Gyda for the rest of her life, to have to care for her children and bed her (the thought of it made him want to throw up). When he told them his answer, they had both given him kisses on his mouth and hugged him tightly. It was then that he was able to feel that they were shaking.

Athelstan had left to find Gyda and try to explain things to her. He had a feeling she knew, judging by the way she had quickly run away when he had returned.

He found Gyda sitting by the water’s edge, angrily throwing rocks as tears ran down her face.

“Gyda,” he said gently, trying not to startle her.

She whipped around, eyes wide and frightened. “Athelstan, I don’t want to get married,” she sobbed, throwing her arms around him. Her head only came up to his chest, and she had a surprisingly tight grip.

He hugged her tightly, stroking her head. “I know,” he whispered. “I know. I don’t want to either. But it’s for the best, Gyda, please believe me.”

“Father and mother must hate me,” she choked out. “That is why they are so eager to get rid of me.”

“Gyda, it’s not like that,” he said, dropping down to his knees so he could look her in the eyes. “They even chose me to be your betrothed so you wouldn’t be hurt, or have to leave home.”

She hugged him tighter, sobbing into his shirt. Athelstan made gentle shushing noises, letting her cry until she was finished. It would be unfair of him to stop her crying; her whole life was about to be changed, and she deserved to let out her frustration.

Once Gyda had calmed down so she was only sniffing with the occasional sob, they pulled away from the hug and shared a sad smile.

“Let’s go back to the house and finish gardening,” Athelstan suggested gently. “And you can tell me about your marriage customs.”

Gyda schooled her expression into the harsh, stony face that all of the viking women had mastered and nodded, pulling him by his hand as she began talking.

***

The celebrations were grand and raucous, as all of the vikings’ gatherings were. Everyone kept clapping Athelstan on the back, congratulating him and giving him lewd winks. Each time a new person came around, he felt his heart sink a little more into his stomach.

Gyda stayed on the other side of the room for most of the time, sending fearful looks at him every so often. She was dressed in her nicest dress, hair braided neatly and the necklace Ragnar had helped Athelstan make sitting on her neck.

The party went well into the night, until most of the people were too drunk to stand up. The ones who were still conscious cheered as Lagertha and the other women led Gyda to the newlyweds’ new home. Ragnar and his men had built a small, sturdy house for them not too far from Ragnar’s own home, with a garden and pen for the livestock.

After time passed, Ragnar slung his arm over Athelstan’s shoulders and announced that it was time for him to leave as well. Ragnar, Bjorn and Rollo escorted the nervous priest out of the jeering hall, practically having to drag him to his home.

Gyda and Athelstan were left alone in their bedroom, her sitting in the center of the bed and him standing awkwardly.

Athelstan cleared his throat uncomfortably, reaching out a hand towards her. “I--”

“I don’t want to have sex!” she suddenly burst out, the first strong emotion she had shown all week. “I’m not ready yet--”

“I don’t want to have it either!” he yelled over her, face flushed as red as a tomato. “I really, really don’t want to, and I wasn’t planning on having it right now, so if we can just pretend we consummated our marriage I would be extremely happy. Your parents told me they would be, too.”

Gyda looked ready to cry again, and he saw that there were tears brimming her eyes. He scooted next to her on the bed and shushed her, singing hymns in his native language to try and calm her down. It seemed to do the trick, and soon she was asleep, leaving Athelstan to stare at the ceiling and consider what his life had become.

 


End file.
